“Let’s all sit down,” said Blanche, leading the way into her parlor.“Tell me exactly what’s to do, and I’ll help in any way I can.”
Lucien quickly outlined the story. Somewhat to Beth’s surprise, Blanchewas totally on Clarissa’s side. “Lord Deveril is a wart,” she said. “Ifhalf the stories I hear of him are true, he shouldn’t be allowed to touchthe toughest binter, never mind a young lady. I’ll gladly have you here.Miss Greystone, but it can only be a temporary measure. You’ll have tothink what you intend to do in the future.”
“I know,” said Clarissa, looking pale and exhausted. “But I can’t seemto think at the moment. This has been the most awful day of my life!” Sheburst into tears.
Beth immediately went over to her. “If you please, Mrs. Hardcastle, Ithink we should get her to her bed. Tomorrow will be soon enough to makeplans.”
Blanche took them upstairs to a small, comfortable room and saw thatClarissa had everything she needed. She left her there with Beth anddescended the stairs thoughtfully. She found Lucien sprawled in hisfavorite chair, knocking back a brandy.
“I like your wife,” Blanche said. “Am I allowed to say that?”
“Say what you damn well please. Having broken just about every rule ofpolite society, I’m in no mood to quibble.”
Blanche wasn’t sure what was making him so disgruntled, but she let outthe laughter that was bubbling inside her. “You are in a mess, aren’t you,love?”
He sat up a bit and looked ruefully at her. “Do you mind me bringingthe chit here?”
“No. I’m a bit surprised you bothered, though. I’d not thought you thephilanthropic type.”
“My marriage sees me a reformed man,” he said dryly.
“Then why does your wife have a bruise growing?” asked Blanchequietly.
He straightened and glared at her, a de Vaux through and through.Blanche faced him unflinchingly. A clock ticked. They could hear, faintly,voices from the upper floor.
“I hit her,” he said at last and swallowed the last of the brandy in agulp.
Blanche picked up the decanter and refilled his glass. “Because she washelping the girl?”
“No.” Lucien could not bring himself to tell her the sordid tale, buthe waited for Blanche’s judgment. Though he knew he deserved only disgust,he felt Blanche was the one person who might make sense of everything.She’d seen the worst of life.
“You’ll feel better in a while,” she said at last.
He stared at her. “I? I’m not the one in pain.”
“Are you not, my dear?”
He looked thoughtfully away. “Yes, Blanche, I am. But what of Beth?Don’t you feel for her?”
“I can see in her eyes you’ve made amends, though I suspect you have away to go yet to wipe the record clean. I hope so. It doesn’t do for womento be too forgiving. If you lay a hand on her again, I hope she wraps apoker round your head.”
“Is that what you’d have done?”
“It’s what I have done, and worse,” said Blanche straightly. “My fatherknocked my mother about all the time. I promised then no man would raise ahand to me and get away with it.”
They heard the door open above.
“Thank God,” said the marquess dryly, “I never gave in to thetemptation to beat you.”
“Why didn’t you?” asked Blanche. “We had our fights and you’vecertainly got a temper, but I’ll go odds you’ve never hit a woman beforein your life.”
He looked down at the amber liquid in his glass. He hadn’t drunk fromit since she’d refilled it. “Do you really want to know?”
“Yes, I think I do.”
“I’ve never loved a woman before in my life,” he said, adding almostangrily, “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, either.”
Coming down the stairs, Beth heard this and stopped. She couldn’t helpa glow of warmth at the admission of love, but she’d rather not have heardthe rider.
